One Big Happy Family
by Izzyaro
Summary: Everyone knows Dionysus hates Camp Half-Blood. No one knows all the reasons why. Character study.


**Just an old piece I wrote ages ago and recently rediscovered. Hope you enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Dionysus has a lot of reasons to hate Camp Half Blood.

Being separated from Ariadne is a big one. The biggest one really, and he is not ashamed to admit it. He swore millennia ago that he would never abandon her, and every day that he is away is a day that he breaks that promise. It's not forever, and she understands, but it still burns.

Then are his restrictions. Forcing the god of wine and parties to spend a century sober is just cruel. Carbonated caffeine substitutes are a miserable substitute for even the cheapest of wines, and his wines were never cheap. Taking away his vines was just adding insult to injury.

And then there are the campers. Can't forget them. Always running around, wanting praise and attention for not dying, and being nice to each other because families stick together, and all that other crap that's going to make him the first immortal to get diabetes before the century is out. They are the bane of Dionysus' already miserable existence.

There's another one of the brats approaching right now. They're still outside the borders, scrambling up the hill and the safety of camp, and Dionysus can't be bothered to make the effort to reach out and identify them from a distance. He will know everything of relevance as soon as they cross the borders. In the meantime, he takes a moment to wonder.

He hopes the kid is one of Athena's. She will never solve her children's problems for them, but she will give them the tools they need to complete the tasks ahead of them, and will guide them in the right direction, provided they know how to pay attention. Athena's kids rarely arrive at Camp Half Blood alone. They just happen to meet up with fellow demigods, or searching satyrs, or even friendly nature spirits. Athena pays enough attention to give her children the best chance she can.

More importantly, she always claims them on the same day they arrive.

Hephaestus isn't too bad either, depending on whatever project he happens to be working on. If it's something particularly difficult, or interesting, he can go months without sparing a thought for anything or anyone else, but once reminded he makes sure his sons and daughters join their siblings quickly. If he happens to be paying attention, he claims them just as quickly as Athena does.

For all that they both resent Hephaestus, Aphrodite and Ares are remarkably similar to him in the way that they treat their children. Both are easily distracted, but both tend to remember their partners, and at least try to keep an eye on the results of particularly memorable unions. Those children are usually claimed quickly. The ones that don't quite meet standards, well. They usually get around to it at some point.

Demeter is as changeable as the seasons, and Dionysus means that quite literally. A child of hers who arrives in summer will be acknowledged promptly and memorably, as befitting a child of one of the eldest gods. But one who has the misfortune to arrive in winter will have to wait. It has been millennia, and Demeter still has not forgotten the loss of her eldest daughter. Only when Persephone returns from the Underworld will Demeter remember her other children.

And then there are Apollo and Hermes. The two with both the most acknowledged, and most forgotten children. Both are free spirits, who love freely and easily, and are easily distracted by more pressing business. They love their children, Dionysus will never doubt that, but surely those children can wait a little bit longer to be claimed. It's not like it's a long time to wait, really. After all, it's not a like a few extra days or weeks or months makes that much difference, right?

Immortals.

The approaching demigod cross the boundary line, and Dionysus immediately knows everything. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again there is a golden drachma on the table next to him, and Chiron is staring innocently at his cards. Dionysus scowls, and slaps his own cards down on the table.

"Don't you dare look."

"I wouldn't dream of it," the centaur murmurs, and if Dionysus didn't know better he might actually believe him. He turns the whole deck into tiny fig trees, just because he can, and stomps over to the fountain. A rainbow forms at a thought, and he flicks the drachma into the spray.

"Show me Hephaestus."

He feel Chiron's eyes burning into his back, but the spray resolves into a crystal clear image and Dionysus has better things to do that satisfy curious centaurs. He squints at the image, and finally spots his brother's legs sticking out from underneath some celestial bronze monstrosity.

"Hephaestus," he barks. "I need a word."

There's a grunt, and some muffled swearing, and when Hephaestus finally does emerge Dionysus only barely holds back his sigh. The blacksmith's eyes are gleaming with the fervour that only comes with a particularly fascinating project, and Dionysus knows exactly how much of his friend's attention will be on any living creature right now.

But he has to try.

"The name Carvahlo mean anything to you?"

For a moment Hephaestus' eye show only confusion, then his brow suddenly clears. "Portugal. Twelve years ago. Ines."

Dionysus raises an eyebrow and waits, and it's a mark of how preoccupied Hephaestus is that it takes him several seconds to connect the dots. "Girl made it then?"

"She did," Dionysus tells him. "And unharmed, which is more than can be said for my satyr."

The foolish creatures really are too loyal for their own good. Hephaestus waves a hand. "Thank them for me. And thanks for letting me know." He pauses for a moment, and nods. "Good girl, that one. She'll go far."

Dionysus opens his mouth, but before he can say anything else Hephaestus is turning back to his work. He wave a hand as he does so, and the image dissolved into mist.

For all his godly patience, Dionysus has to take a moment before leaving. Hephaestus is as good a friend as he has among his family, but sometimes he wants to strangle the other god. Being terrible with living creatures isn't a good enough excuse when it comes to children. Then again, it's not like anyone else is much better.

He will never admit it, but the pact of the Big Three was probably a good thing. Hades never had enough kids to be able to get a good read on him, but Zeus was terrible at acknowledging his children from the start, and Poseidon wasn't much better. Half the time their kids went on quests to slay monsters and win kingdoms just to get some answers. Dionysus can live without having to see the disappointment on any more kids' faces.

He was one of those kids once. Sure, they told him that he was the son of a god, but they also told him he was a girl whenever they were in public, and he had trouble with that too. If his father was a god, surely his mother would have been protected and saved, not obliterated. Yeah, he changed his mind after the being turned into a goat and watching his family go mad and kill each other thing, but it was still years before he received actual confirmation that the king of the gods was his father.

It has been centuries, but Dionysus has never forgotten how that felt. It's why he makes sure that satyrs are always at his sons and daughters houses on the day of their twelfth birthday, and that the kids always have very clear dreams containing explicit directions to camp. It's as much as he can do without angering his father, and not nearly as much as he would like, but all of his children know exactly who they as soon as divinely possible.

But who knows. Maybe Hephaestus will put off his tinkering long enough to claim his daughter properly. Maybe some of the other gods will choose today to make the Hermes cabin a little less crowded. Maybe Zeus will come down off Mount Olympus and do the polka at the camp bonfire.

Dionysus snorts and turns away. Chiron takes one look at his face and opts to stay silent, but his too expressive brown eyes say enough. Dionysus stares at the game that he hates, and at the warm can of Diet Coke next to his place, and can't decide whether to laugh or cry.

Dionysus had always known he would hate Camp Half Blood. He never expected it to make him hate his own family too.

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 **Any feedback would be very much appreciated.**


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